


The Things That Scare Us

by Sassirin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternative Universe - High School, Angst, Drama, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Private School Setting, Slice of Life, Some Definite Gay Action, delinquent Jean and honor student Marco, high school romance, high school shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassirin/pseuds/Sassirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in his life, Marco Bodt, honor student extraordinaire and always diligent in following the rules, is sent to detention. There, he meets Jean Kirschtein, a troublemaker student renowned for having a vendetta against the rules and the image that the school forces onto him. Together, they begin to explore worlds that they're not used to — Marco learns that there's more than just following the system, Jean discovers that there actually might be a brighter side to things than what the school has to offer.</p><p>Much to their surprise, however, it all starts in detention.</p><p>[ DISCONTINUED SERIES ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Still Don't Know Why

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone should be a senior, but some characters will either be teachers or school faculty. Marco's going to dive into the high life of high school, while Jean's gonna learn that sports are a pretty good way of releasing his frustration towards the school.
> 
> Private School Setting, btw. And another note: some things in private school are not always refined like it seems. Every place has a skeleton in its closet.
> 
> I'll be tweaking some things if necessary.

**MARCO**

All you have to do is just take one look at me — just  _one_ , and you'll realize that I'm just about the same as any other person.

I'm just about the same as other high school students living the usual high school nightmare, suffering through grades and tests, diving through peer pressure and trends, falling through the same, dark abyss of an unknown future. I'm still awkward when it comes to adult things, I still can't remember the rules about time management for friends, family, and school, and I'm still a complete loser when it comes to things about love and relationships.

I'm really not that different.

But that being said —  _why does it feel like I'm in prison_?

Alright, maybe that's a little bit of an over-exaggeration; assuming I'm in prison isn't the nicest thing to think about and maybe a lot of those things I mentioned don't exactly describe me.

I'm really not that bad when it comes to time management. My school counselor actually told me once that I knew how to separate my priorities really well as compared to most students. And I'm actually pretty good when it comes to grades and tests—I mean, honor roll four years and running—and my plans for the future aren't a blur for me because I actually have an idea of what I'm going to do.

That's right — becoming a successful physical therapist! That's my goal. I've already got all my plans ready — what university I'm aiming for, my major, my goals in life. It's not a final list, but it's something at least.

…Alright, I admit it. Maybe I'm not exactly in the same boat as other students.

But just because I've got some things of my life in order doesn't mean that I'm not like other high school students, does it? Life isn't exactly rainbows and unicorns for me either. I mean, I still go through some high school stress too, so  _really_ , I'm not any different.

No, but seriously — what is this place?

An old, decrepit-looking room that clearly lost any care for humane maintenance; graffiti and dried-out bubblegum practically littering the entire place; banged-up windows and dimmed lighting that just makes this place so utterly shady and suspicious — you really can't blame me for thinking that I somehow ended up in prison.

And don't even get me started on that large, faded red stain smack-dab in the middle of the floor. Just for sanity's sake, I tossed around the idea that it might have been the result of an art project that went wrong, but the crustiness of it just forced me to regurgitate the idea that it was recent — a little too recent maybe. And clearly, no one felt the need to scrub it off.

…Well, alright then.

At this point, I'm not even sure what to believe anymore. Actually, I think all I really wanted to know is what I did to deserve this. Not that I'm complaining…a lot — just a little bit, only. I mean, it should be normal for a high school student to have to go detention at least once in their lives, right?

 _Right_?

I don't know anymore. After I first told my parents that I got detention for the first time in my entire high school career, they weren't the least bit too ecstatic, especially with the idea that this sort of thing could appear in my permanent school records or affect my chances for college. It took a little prodding and convincing, but eventually, I managed to persuade them that one detention record wouldn't be a significant harm on my future. I think I even sounded a little excited there, but only because this sort of thing never happens to me.

But after seeing this room, I don't think I'd really want to come here again.

…If it ever happened for some reason.

But it's not like I'm too worried either. I mean, it's just detention, not the end of the world, and I've heard a little of what actually happens in detention.

You just sit still, you don't make a peep or a sound, and you keep to yourself, and wait until it's all over. It's just a little bit of after-school or lunch sacrifice, depending on what they assign for the week, but it's no big deal. I plan to spend it doing homework anyways. It's a just bit too bad that I have to skip helping out at the library today, but not too much skin off my bones.

Still, though.

Was this really the detention room?

"Am I…" I started, taking a careful step forward towards the room. My feet stopped just by the entrance and I peered tentatively inside. Maybe this was the storage room or something? "Am I in the right place?" I asked to myself.

"Are you here for detention?"

I really hadn't expected for an answer, especially one so blunt and frank. If I wasn't so good at keeping my composure, I'd punch the living daylights out of whoever answered because surprises weren't my strong suit.

"Are you here for detention or not?"

After I head further inside the room, my eyes are met with a short, blonde-haired woman coming from the back.

 _Ms. Rico Brzenska_ , I silently say to myself, and suddenly feeling an overwhelming gratefulness that my fists didn't decide to punch the living daylights out of  _her_.

Around the beginning of the school year, a couple of seniors in my class thought it'd be an accomplishment to pull some pranks on a few of the new freshmen teachers. Ms. Rico Brzenska, a female freshman teacher already rumored to have a low tolerance for bad discipline, happened to be their first target. I'm not too caught up on the details but anything about the prank or what happened died down pretty quickly.

All I can guess is that there was some detention involved, or maybe a little bit of suspension or maybe some senior rights and privileges brutally taken away.

Last month, Ymir stirred up a fight in the girl's locker room and now she's not allowed to go to prom anymore. She said it wasn't that much of a big deal considering she's already been to prom for the last three years anyways. But she also said that she'll still be able to go prom if she starts sucking up to the school now and promise that she'll actually graduate this time around.

Well, at least she's got something to look forward to in her final year of high school — emphasis on 'final.'

I don't know how Ymir does it, but she's always acting like she actually has space to roam around in this school.

" _Excuse me!_ "

I snap my attention to the front of me, meeting up with the sight of Rico Brzenska tapping her foot impatiently and judging me with a scrutinizing look.

Her lips pulled into a scowl, her eyes staring at me hard and firm. "I asked if you're here for detention."

"I am," I admitted, just a little bit embarrassed and awkward. After reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my detention slip, a yellow piece of paper folded neatly and to a crisp. My arm felt like it moved by itself as I handed it over to her.

It really  _is_  my first detention, because I'm just not entirely too sure how to feel about everything. Everyone else certainly had fun with my situation, poking and teasing about how a good honor student  _actually_  got detention. I had my own fair share of laughs but I didn't really like the sound of it too much. It just seemed like everyone else made a party out of it. Something like this also happened the first time I tried cursing too.

All I did was spat out 'crap' once, and suddenly everyone was amazed that I actually had the capability to say the dirtier variation of the word 'poop.' And don't even get me started on the time I said 'fuck' for the first time either. It's like people thought I didn't know any other words to say the phrase 'let's have sex' at all.

And everyone even looked at me like I had something else on my face other than my freckles.

I'm honestly the same as any other student — what's the big deal if I got detention for the first time? It made me wonder how people would react if Armin—the obvious Valedictorian of the year—got detention too. I bet it'd be the same thing like me, if not a little more.

" _Alright, I think I'll send you off to the Nurse's Office now_."

"Huh?" I said, snapping out of my thoughts for the second time. I shook my head and held my hands up in defense. "Ah—please hold on, Ms. Brzenska. I was just dozing off for a bit. I don't need to go to the Nurse's Office." I flashed her a wry smile that was more of a cross between a nervous laugh and slight panic. "I'm just here for detention."

"Marco Bodt, huh," she read aloud from the detention slip and then tossed me a calculative look. Afterwards, she crossed her arms. "I'm surprised to see that there are a few honor students that actually get into detention."

Ouch. That hit it right on the nail only because I knew what she talking about and that it was the biggest reason why everyone had so many reactions towards my getting detention.

Honor students were just that — good students that followed every criteria of responsibility, discipline, academic performance, good character, leadership, and service. Honors students belonged to an exclusive honor society of the school and were expected to exhibit such qualities on a daily basis. That being said, it's not every day that an honor student gets sent to detention, which is why a lot of people had so much fun with this revelation.

"I'm not too sure what happened either," I explained, still maintaining that wry smile. "I think I hit my afterwards because I don't remember—or rather—I'm not even sure what I did to get detention." And on that note, I reached towards the back of my head, feeling around for the bruised area and surely getting a pinch from it. "But I'm here to take responsibility, despite it." I finished it with a smile that really didn't meet my eyes.

And I guess she could detect that because she ended the conversation on that note, handing me my detention slip back and then turning on her heel towards the teacher's desk in the corner. Her heels clacked against the mucky-colored floor, its sound reverberating and echoing loudly and certainly making the atmosphere a little bit tense.

At least I maintained a respectful tone, I reminded myself. It's tiring to be an honor student. All I do is just follow the rules more than most of the students here, follow up my studies responsibly, and act respectful to my peers and teachers, and suddenly, I'm told I'm an apple picked out of a batch of other apples.

If anyone was a different apple than the rest, then I'd say it had to be Bertholdt, because honestly, that guy was big — the tallest of our class since freshmen year and he's kept that title. Good for him, I guess.

"Am I allowed to sit anywhere or is there arranged seating?"

I asked, rubbing at the back of my neck and hoping that I didn't sound as awkward as I made it out to be.

"It's up to the teacher overseeing detention today, but it shouldn't really matter."

The changed tone of voice caught me a little off guard. From a frank and blunt sort of tone, I couldn't help but notice that it suddenly mellowed down into something more…nice. I mean, it didn't seem like she lost any tone of authority in her voice, but it just sounded normal, a little bit of a friendlier sort than something harsh. I'll be honest — I never thought someone like her was capable of sounding so…casual. It's hard to say, but it certainly changed my image of her.

"T-Thank you for telling me that, Ms. Brzenska," I almost spluttered. I guess I was just a little surprised. "Have a nice day."

"You too," she murmured, her fingers pushing her glasses upwards on the bridge of her nose as she looked at me. "Don't get into any more trouble."

All I could was nod my head after her as she left, hearing the clicking of her heels fade as she descended down the hall. As soon as I was sure that I was alone, I turned my attention to the desks. Low maintenance, indeed. The desks looked like they could have been from my grandfather's generation judging by their appearance.

I came in closer, nearing the center chair of the first row and trailing my fingers over its surface. Compared to the ones in the classrooms, these were more than just damaged. There were cracks, carvings, graffiti, or dried-out bubblegum all over its surface. I'd say these could be great props for a high school story scene if I had the chance to use them.

A little reluctant, I slipped onto the chair, garnering the loudest, most annoying creak that I have ever heard in the world as one leg followed the other. As soon as I got as comfortable as I could, I took another look around. It wasn't the prettiest room in the school but it had character…I guess. The chalkboard looked overused and as if someone tried to make as many scratch marks as they could on it. The wall clock's hands were barely moving, and even though the lighting in the room wasn't top notch, it was still bright enough for the blood stain to be noticeable.

The smell wasn't too good and the dust in the air didn't help making the room the least bit appealing in its character. Honestly, this room should be illegal. I don't even know why students would even bother getting trouble if they had to stay in a place like this.

Speaking of which, what kind of people were these students that spend their time in detention? I mean, I've seen a few of the ones that look like they enjoy getting in trouble for a living, but those are the few in a crowd of one hundred. A private school does pretty well in making sure that a majority of its students aren't entirely delinquents, so it makes me wonder what kind of people these detention-prone students were.

What did "bad" students look like?

It's not right to make quick generalizations but all I could think about is that these guys might be pretty hardcore, maybe even wild — just something similar to the usual delinquents that you'd see in movies. Maybe some of them have piercings all around their body and face? Maybe some have bleached hair of colors against the school's rules? I bet even a few of them have a tattoo hidden somewhere on their bodies, a messy uniform attire against the school's code, or maybe a shit-eating smirk that probably said 'fuck you' to the world.

It made me a little nervous, I guess. I've seen some students around the school secretly hoard a cigarette under the faculty's noses, and even though it makes me a little unnerved, I guess it's better than them passing around anything 'bigger.' But still, a heat of uncertainty couldn't help but pool around in my chest because I felt a little…scared? Maybe more like unsure? Whatever it was, it didn't help in making me any less uncomfortable than I already was.

" _Honey, I'm home_!"

As soon as I heard that, my eyes snapped to the door in recognition because I definitely knew whose voice was that.

"Connie?"

"Marco?"

After the moment Connie burst through the door, I couldn't help but feel relieved that someone I knew was going to be in detention with me. I just hadn't expected to see him holding a donut in his hand or wearing a sombrero on his head…but I guess that comes with the surprises of life? Yeah, I'm not going to bother questioning it.

As he stood in the front of the room, Connie looked more perplexed than I was. He looked the room over, just about checking every nook and cranny of it as if everything about it was a trap set for him.

"Am I in the middle of a prank or did I head into the wrong room again?" He asked himself, now looking more suspicious than I thought he should be.

I'm going to go on a limb here and guess that something similar must have happened before.

I seriously don't want to ask.

"Nope, the paint is still there." Connie said, bending down slightly to look through the desks to look over to the middle of the floor.

Ah, so it  _was_  paint.

Looking somewhat convinced, Connie looked over to me, chewing off a bit bite from his half-eaten donut. "Marco, what are you doing here? You do know what room this is, right?"

"I do," I said, kind of awkwardly as I flashed him an embarrassed grin. "I…um…I have detention too."

His eyes blew up widely. " _No way_?"

And just after he said that, Eren popped up from behind him, coming into the classroom and carrying an enclair in-between his teeth while his hands were occupied with a 3DS. He really hadn't expected for Connie to suddenly stop him in his tracks and point his donut in my direction. "Eren, Marco's in detention?!"

"Mmf?" Eren uttered out, acting just as surprised as Connie had been. However, it looked like a sudden light of realization dawned onto him because he nodded slowly soon after, almost as if he understood something that I didn't. "Mmm." He nodded his head some more, heading past Connie and towards my desk. He popped the donut out of his lips. "Yo, Marco! Want a bite?"

I think I felt a little too happy knowing that Eren and Connie had detention too, but I couldn't help it. It just made me feel so relieved knowing that I wasn't going to be in here alone.

"I'm good." I mused at him. "Is that Pokemon?"

"Hunting for shinies," He answered, scarfing down the rest of his donut and turning his attention back onto the game. "I promised Armin a shiny, and yeah — it's hard as fuck." He looked at me, eyes narrowing curiously. "Unless, you know, you wanna be my best friend and trade me one."

"Not a chance." I grinned. "Or maybe."

At this point, more students were pouring into the classroom, a lot of them taking up the seats in the back or the near middle. The front rows were barely filled save for a few freshmen that were too nervous to sit by the rowdy-looking group of juniors in the back corner. Most of the students were upperclassmen, the majority being seniors that were pretty much the people who didn't care what people, students, or teachers thought about them — good or bad opinions. I wouldn't say that's something to be proud of, but I guess if that's the image they liked then…to them, their own, I guess.

Aside from them, it surprised me that the rest of the other seniors were some of the kind that I wouldn't have expected to get detention, only because they're not really the type that would do anything to deserve it. They were students that floated, you could say; students that were quiet or did their own thing too, not really anything outstanding or anything bad and vulgar. But still, I never expected to see them in detention because I couldn't imagine them doing graffiti to a wall or anything like that.

"Alright, Marco, 'fess up," Connie slammed his hands on my desk, leaning in so close that forced me back against my chair. He eyed me suspiciously, "What are you in for?"

"I—um, I…"

To be honest, I was still trying to figure that out myself. All I remembered was that I woke up in the Nurse's Office, pretty dazed and lost, and sporting a bruise on the back of my head. My mom picked up later, not too thrilled for some reason, and even more upset finding out that I had detention. As soon as I came back to school, no one would tell me what happened no matter how much I asked. Even Armin and Bertholdt refused to look me in the eye every time I brought it up to them, so I just eventually left it alone, resigned to accepting it. I didn't have the guts to ask a teacher, any of the admin, or even go back to the nurse either, because after I told everyone about getting detention, let's just say that…that there were a lot of mixed reactions.

Three days later, and on a Thursday where I had expected library duties after school, I'm stuck in detention.

And I still don't know why.

But even though I was out of the loop as much as he was, I opened my mouth to say something —  _anything_.

"Hellloo, Connie!"

Although I hadn't expected it, Eren cut me off, grabbing Connie by the shoulder and turning him away from me. I would've felt relieved and dropped the whole thing at that point, but then Eren continued. "Remember from last Monday when he…and…in the…" He scrunched his face at different times as he spoke, making multiple random gestures and shapes with his hand. "Remember?" He then finished, wagging his eyebrows at Connie.

" _Right_ ," Connie said aloud, nodding his head in understanding.

Forget being out of the loop with everything. I knew that no one wanted to tell me what happened, but when it comes down to the fact that it's on purpose, then yeah, that's where I have to draw the line.

I frowned. I hate to say it, but I think I would've been fine if they hadn't made it so obvious that there was something going on about that I didn't know.

But I needed to get to the bottom of this.

"Hey, Eren—"

"Does anyone know who's in charge of detention today?" Eren closed off his 3DS, putting into his backpack as he settled himself into the seat in front of me. "I heard it's not Brzenska or any of the senior teachers…"

"I think it's Mike!" Connie snapped his fingers, excited.

"Why are you guys so happy that it's Mike?"

"It's because Mike practically let us do whatever we want." Eren explained. "He's not like all the hella mean teachers that make you sit there and do your homework quietly."

"And," Connie said as he whipped out his cell phone, screening over to speed dial. "He lets us order pizza because he likes the smell of it!" He brought it to his ear, the ringing of it clearly heard. "Yo, Marco, since it's your first time in detention, we're celebrating! Pick a favorite pizza topping of your choice!"

"Just get anything." I chuckled lightly.

Wow. I'm buying pizza and eating it in detention too. I feel like such a winner.

"Just be glad that it's not Keith today." Eren groaned to the side of me. "I'm not in the mood to have everything single thing I do be watched."

"I know Keith's strict and sometimes unfair, but is he really like that when it comes to detention?" I asked, a little bit curious. I was more focused on leading the entire conversation back to me and what he knew.

"He's hella crazy, Marco." Eren groaned. "Do you remember back in freshmen year when he grabbed Connie by the head and dangled him like that because Connie managed to piss him off so bad?"

Yeah, I remembered that. It was on a school trip and he was one of the chaperones. Both Connie and Sasha were both fooling around at some point, one thing led to another, and Sasha was the only one who got out alive. I think I remembered that Connie—

"Connie, didn't you have hair back then?" I blinked, looking at him.

"Huh?" Connie said. "Oh!  _Oh yeah_ …" He then slumped back in his seat, hand reaching up to rub over his shaved scalp. "I  _did_  have hair back then. But Keith pulled some out when he did that thing so I had to get it cut, but  _no one_  liked the Mohawk I got…" He sniffed. "So I had to shave it off instead. Man, I fuckin' looked good with hair but everyone keeps telling me 'no.'"

"That's because you  _don't_  look good with hair anyways, Connie." Eren pointed out. "Doesn't Sasha keep telling you that? You look so weird with it."

Ah. He said it. Eren said it.

…And Connie's going to react.

"Shut up! I looked like an Adonis!" Connie cried out, slamming his hands on his desk and leaning forward. "Aaat leasssht I didnn't talkh like thissh, Mr. Brace-Face!"

"I did not talk like that!"

"Eren, you actually did." I pointed out.

"Marco!"

"Ah-hah!" Connie pointed at Eren, before sitting back down with his lips pulled into a pout. "I bet you thought you sounded like you were hot or something. You and Jean, both."

"Jean Kirschstein?" I piped up. "He had braces?"

"Oh, yeah. You two don't talk, right?" Connie said.

On the side, Eren rolled his eyes. "Lucky," he commented.

I looked over to Connie. "Not really. I mean, we talked once in class, I think, but that was it and—"

It got quiet.

And not just quiet-quiet, but as in an eerie sort-of quiet. For some reason, everyone just stayed frozen in place, heads turned and looking over towards the door entrance. I was too busy talking to Connie, but once I turned my head towards the door, I understood what force was strong enough to get everyone in detention to quiet down.

 _Keith Shadis_.

The man took one step forward further into the classroom, and just like that, everyone sat up straight and neat and so properly in their chairs. He closed the door slowly behind him, beady eyes staring down onto each and every person in here. When they glazed over me, I had to look down and avoid his gaze because I instantly knew his thoughts after seeing me and the honor society pin on my collar. I shouldn't have put it back on before I came here.

I had no idea if I was lucky that he didn't single me out in front of everyone but the way he snorted to himself instead just made my stomach curl a bit and made me instantly feel horrible. Sometimes, I honestly do question myself if being an honor student was worth the expectations put on me.

"Everyone seems to be having fun relaxing," Shadis spoke, stepping up to the center of the room and in front of the chalkboard. He turned over to it, picking up one of the old chalk and writing on it, the sharp, squeak of it hurtful to my ears.

 _4:30_.

"An hour left." He continued, placing the chalk back. Shadis narrowed his eyes. "I guess since everyone's already had their fun, it should be enough if you all just sat quietly to yourselves then." He pulled his hand backwards, hitting at the chalkboard behind him. "No talking, no cell phones, no computers! You can do your homework, but if I hear anything, I'll make it worth your while." He finished, retreating over to the teacher's desk.

It's almost as if everyone held the breath the entire time he spoke, because once he turned his back, it just seemed safe to finally exhale. I reached into my bag, trying to stay as quiet as I could, and pulled out my textbook. I might as well do some homework if that's the only safe thing to do.

Eren had something of the same idea, but just a little different. He had his math textbook out standing in front of him, but in his hands, he held onto his 3DS, playing his game as discreetly as he could under the pretense of studying. To my right, Connie fell asleep.

And instantly too, judging by the light snores that were coming from him.

 _Bad choice, Connie_. I thought, as I began to open my chemistry textbook and flip through it. Connie's snores got louder in time, so I guess that left me having to bear the responsibility of waking him up before that happens.

I still never got to find out what Eren and Connie both knew. And I guess it wouldn't have mattered any more considering that detention would be over in about an hour, so what would be the use of me finding out the reason anyways? I guess the secret's going to have to go on without me knowing for all I care. It's not like I was going to back here again — or at least, I don't intend to be back.

Speaking of which, of all people I expected to be in detention, I thought I'd be seeing Jean Kirschstein.

Shadis seemed to be preoccupied with some papers, so I swept my gaze as discreetly as I could.

Not here. Jean Kirschstein was nowhere to be found in the room.

It's not that I should always see Jean in detention all the time; it's just that it's  _expected_. I mean, the guy was one of those kinds of students — the kind that didn't care for the school's rules and had a penchant for breaking them. They were the kind that didn't really like the way private schools ran things.

The truth is that it's not really easy being a high school student from a private school. You could say that, to most students, it was sort of like a prison; too many rules and regulations, not enough space for self-expression or freedom. It's strict here for the most part, and even if you thought all these rules would make students more refined, orderly, and well-mannered, it's a dead-wrong assumption. Having all these rules that restricts a lot of your choices makes it much more tempting for students to want to break them.

"And speak of the devil."

That wasn't my voice.

First looking over to the teacher's desk, I saw Shadis standing up, arms crossed and passing on that same stone-gazed stare onto someone else.

And it was only after I followed that gaze had I realized that Shadis just said my own exact thoughts aloud.

"Jean Kirschstein, you're late."

Keith spat.

There, standing under the doorway was Jean Kirschstein, one of the school's renowned troublemakers with a penchant for going against the rules, a cigarette in hand, two-toned hair bristled messily, uniform un-buttoned, tie loosened, and the piercings on his left ear shining in all its glory under the dimmed lighting of the room.

He looked like the complete image of a school rebel.

I was sure that he had a tattoo somewhere in his body like the delinquents in the movies.

However, what caught me and a few other people off-guard was the black eye he had on the right side of his face, black and purple and just about as big as his nose.

Damn. That was a shiner.

Whoever did it must've had good aim and a lot of strength to have caused something of that proportion. I wonder who could've done that though. Jean may have a streak for going against the rules, but he didn't seem like the type to get into constant fist-fights.

Shadis was definitely not as curious as I was though.

"Put the cigarette away," Shadis grounded through gritted teeth, looking as if every bit of his patience had disappeared.

In front of me, I heard Eren snort to himself, whispering ' _Stupid Horseface'_  under a low breath.

I knew Jean and I had mutual friendships, but I never really got to know him. It was partly my fault since honor society took a lot of my time, but the real reason is that I thought Jean and I would never really click well. He just didn't look like the type that would want to be friends with me.

Jean stared long and hard at Shadis for what seemed like minutes until he wordlessly picked the cigarette out of his mouth and scrubbed it off the bottom of his shoe. He tossed into the nearest trash can silently, raising his hands up in the air. I think a lot of teachers kind of gave up too fast on students like Jean, because Shadis hadn't berated him any further.

Instead, Shadis simply maintained his cold gaze on Jean and lifted an arm to point over us. "Sit down." There was no patience in the man's tone, to say the least.

It doesn't seem like Jean was challenging or being…rebellious in a sense like I thought he'd be. He just seemed more…depressed, you could say; almost as if he was defeated by choice and defeated because there's nothing more to fight for.

That's what I got from Jean's behavior at least.

Jean began to move forward, particularly aiming for one of the empty seats on the far left side since the back was taken.

"Not there."

Before Jean could even touch the seat, Shadis stopped him, pointing his finger onto the seat next to me. "Sit next to Bodt. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from him."

You'd think that I should be proud that I'm being implied as a good student, but I'm not. Shadis pretty much pointed out that I was an honor student in detention.

And it looked like Jean could the idea too because the way he scrunched his face as he looked at me told me everything.

Jean took the seat the next to me, dumping his backpack unceremoniously onto the ground and squeezing into the desk with little effort. From up close, his black eye looked worse than it did from afar, and I could swear that I almost thought I saw it visibly throbbing. I felt immediately bad for him because it still looked ripe. It must've hurt a lot.

As he got comfortable, he rested his chin on the palm of his head, looking bored. It was such a shame that Shadis had to be the one watching us because I could've had the chance to actually get to know Jean. I wasn't even sure if he knew me.

However, for a quick moment, I saw his eyes had trailed over to glance at me, and even if seemed pathetic, I felt pretty lucky to have caught it.

 _Hi_ , I greeted him with a smile and a wave.

Much to my surprise, however, Jean flashed me a glare in response, baring his teeth in the slightest as a snarl before turning his head and part of his body away from me.

I was  _stunned_.

All I did was greet the guy and I get nothing but hate.

…Did I have something on my face?

Maybe it was the way I smiled at him? I don't know.

Whatever it was, I didn't like it one bit and it clearly made me upset.

I was about to return to my textbook and mull over this ordeal when a crumpled piece of paper landed in front of me. Eren looked back at me with a small wave of his hand, indicating for me to open and read the note.

_[Eren]_

_Don't worry about him. He's just still pissed off about that black eye you gave him_.

Oh. Alright, that made sense.

Jean was just ignoring me because of the black eye that I—

Hold on.

…I did what?

I don't how long it was but I must have stayed frozen for a while because Connie had woken up and started poking me from his desk.

But I didn't react one bit.

And that was only because I was too busy trying to understand the fact that I, Marco Bodt, was responsible for the black eye that Jean Kirschstein was currently sporting.

 _And I still don't know why_.


	2. Old Habits Die Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little by little, things no longer remain the same in Marco's high school life when he gets in trouble for the second time. 
> 
> For the first time now, Marco finds that it's a little bit frustrating being branded as an honor student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is UNBETA'd.
> 
> Marco finally finds out why the back of Marco's head is bruised and hurts, why Jean has a really bad black eye, why no one wants to tell him what happened, and why he's in detention in the first place.

**MARCO**

A lot of people wouldn't expect this from me, but the truth is that I'm not too good when it comes to surprises.

It's not even an exaggeration. I guess it could be called a bad habit of some sort but it's still something that even I can't figure out.

The first  _it_  became a "thing" happened after I came back from baseball practice in the fifth grade. It was my birthday and all I remember feeling at that time was pretty happy since my parents told me that they had a surprise for me. Apparently, I hadn't expected that 'surprise' meant all sorts of things because just after I stepped into my house, momentarily facing a pitch black room, people jumped out of nowhere, screaming "surprise!" at me.

I can still remember that minor panic attack I had and nearly knocking out my own grandmother with my baseball bat because for how much that literal "surprise" freaked me out. After that, my grandmother always had someone else watch over me whenever I needed someone to supervise me at the park.

And then, when I was thirteen, Sasha thought it'd be a hilarious idea to assault me in a tickle attack while I had my back turned in class. Most people would take that kind of thing in good stride, but to be honest, I was a little oddball of a kid still growing up and getting used to people, and girls and them being closer as friends was still so new to me.

After that, I couldn't face Sasha properly in the eye for about a month only because I'd have to look at the black eye that I accidentally landed on her. And for the first time in my life, I also found out how horrible it feels to hit a girl.

(Although, I can't say the same in the case of when a girl hits a boy because Mikasa and Annie usually look perfectly fine and unbothered after they punch other boys.)

At the end, it's become fact that I could actually pack a punch more than my looks led on and that I, Marco, really didn't go well when it comes to surprises. And it's still somewhat of a fact even up to this point because my penchant against surprises is still a bad habit that I can never get rid of. The idea that it's the reason why Jean Kirschstein, a guy who never had anything to do with me in the first place, makes me feel more than awful.

I just committed an unneeded crime against him!

A pool of guilt swelled within me the more I thought about it. There was no away I was going to be able to focus on anything else aside from this. It makes so much sense that he'd give me the cold shoulder. I probably didn't even apologize to him.

As I propped an elbow up on the desk so that I could rest the side of head on my palm, I peered out at him from the corner of my eye. Jean's face was twisted into something of both discomfort and displeasure, his expression scrunched together as he eyed down at the homework in front of him. Judging by the way his hand constantly fidgeted, it looked like he had a hard time resisting the urge to touch at the blackened area around his eye, and at this, my own hand twitched as well, nearly curbing into a small fist.

A sort of aching feel stirred at the back of my hand, almost as if my own body was trying to tell me that I most likely knew how it feels for my hand to connect against Jean's face. If I had eaten anything earlier, I think I'd probably barf at that thought. I don't want to think that I know what it feels to beat down on Jean.

Never mind my previous theory about Jean getting into a fight. It was all wrong, wrong, and wrong.

"It's five o'clock." I suddenly heard Shadis announce, and instantly, my attention was brought back to everything around me. Everyone else in the room started getting out of their seats and heading out the door, some of them holding food in their hands. Just like them, Eren and Connie both proceeded out of their seats, looking at me, and obviously saying something, but I didn't catch any of it.

"Are we having a break?" is all I asked, and after their nods affirmed it, I just robotically stood up from my seat and slipped out of it, my mind still lingering on Jean and his black eye.

And speaking of which, by the time I looked back to my left, Jean was already gone.

This caused even more guilt to swell within me. He probably didn't want to be around me for a second longer. I guess I couldn't blame him for that but it still made me feel even worse.

I continued to remain quiet as I followed Eren and Connie all the way to a lot located at the back of the school, the apparent location for break time for students in detention. According to Eren, it's quicker than going all the way to the cafeteria, and it's a pretty good place to get some fresh air and not have to worry about keeping up a clean student reputation in the case of visiting parents. Also, apparently, allotting a half an hour break point is actually one of the few humane acts that Shadis actually grants — take it like it is and don't question it is usually how things goes around here.

I wouldn't have described things any better.

As soon as we settled down on the ground, I went straight for some answers. It's time that I didn't let things go by without getting to the bottom of them.

"Eren." I hadn't accounted for my voice to sound so desperate and guilt-stricken but it did. "Did I really give Jean that black eye?" I couldn't help any of it. I've always had a weak spot for being guilty easily.

"Hm?" Comfortable in his spot against the wall behind him, Eren peered at him through one eye. It looked like he was having an inner debate between diving in more about the situation or leaving me with what I already know, but fortunately, he decided against the latter. "Yeah, that was all you."

I'm not going to lie. That kind of made me mad, only because he'd been so reserved about keeping it a secret from me. Now that the cat's out of the bag, he's being more than just open about it with me. He's just letting it all go without being secretive about it.

Honestly, am I supposed to feel angry, upset, curious, or all of the above?

" _Then why didn't anyone tell me anything?_ "

Yup. All of the above.

"It's 'cause the Nurse said not to," Connie cut in this time from the side, closing in so close. "Something about not wanting you to get so stressed out about it."

"But I'm stressing out  _now_." I pointed out, my lips pulled into a curt line.

"That's not it." Eren shook his head and laid his hands out. "Alright, it's kind of hard to explain but it's like this: no one was allowed to say anything until maybe a few days after it looks like you were getting better—"

This time, I held my hands out. "Hold on," I said. "Start over. What happened?" And then I did a double-take on that. "No, wait. Start with Jean. Alright, no one wants me stressed out —  _fine_. But where does Jean come into all of this?"

"Alright, so this is what happened." Connie took over; this time, holding his hands out as he began to explain.

"On Monday, after school, it was the five of us in the hall near my locker — me, you, Armin, and Eren." He counted off with his fingers. "I forget what we were talking about—I think something about a movie or whatever—no, wait! I think it was something about a game." Connie shook his head. " _Anyways_ , we were all pretty hyped and shit, especially you and Armin cause you guys were full-on nerding it out, and Jean—Jean was coming down the hall. And then  _you_  were saying something and Jean was close by, and then bam!" He threw his arms out, nearly hitting Eren in the face as well.

After a quick apology, Connie continued, looking mind-blown. "Ya hit Jean right in the eye and it knocks him down! And it then it just got soooo quiet after that, and you were just looking at your hand and Jean back and forth like you were thinking 'Ohmygod, ohmygod!' And then you turned us pretty freaked out, shocked, and kinda dazed, and then bam!" Connie blurted out for the second time, clapping one hand over the other. "You just fell back, man, like a rock, and on top of Jean too, but not really. Like an arm on him— and oh! And your hand fell on the eye you hit him at." He finished. "Yup. That's what happened."

I'm not going to lie.

I shouldn't have asked.

I think being kept in the dark about it was better than hearing that. In fact, I think I'd rather listen to Ymir and Sasha having a belching contest in front my face.

"That explains Jean's black eye and why the back of my head hurts." I unfortunately said, unconsciously rubbing at the back of my head and feeling a slight throbbing and pain.

It also explains why it's like the back of my hand feels like it's familiar with Jean's face too.

I asked further even though I really didn't want to. "Alright…so how come I can't remember anything? And why is it important that I don't stress out?"

"After the three of us brought you and Jean to the Nurse's Office, Jean woke half an hour later, iced up for a bit, and then left." Eren explained, scoffing at the mention of Jean. "And then you woke up not too long after but you couldn't remember anything what happened earlier." He indicated towards the back of his own head. "The Nurse called up your parents, and while you were resting, told all of us that you got some kind of short-term memory loss cause of the trauma from hitting your head when you fell."

Eren continued. "And that's when we were told that we shouldn't jog your memory about what happened or what you did to Jean because it'd stress you out and that wouldn't be too good for you."

That got me curious. "So why did you finally tell me?"

He got a bit disgruntled about this. "I felt bad for Jean, okay?"

Despite the fact that I didn't know Jean well, I knew that he and Eren did not get along. And by that, I mean that they were probably could have been sworn rivals from another life too. That being said, Eren didn't have to admit it if he didn't want to; at least, not to the point where the tips of his ears are red from embarrassment and he looks like he was about to throw up at any moment.

"Plus, I also felt bad for you too, Marco." Eren said, regaining his composure. "Man, Marco, everyone's got such a soft spot for you. I mean, me too, you know? But you looked pretty left out, so I kind of just let it slip." He shrugged.

"Thanks." I nodded my head at him. "By the way, we're the only ones who know about this, right?"

The last thing I wanted was for people gossiping about the accident of how I gave Jean a black eye was twisted into something like me getting into a fight with him.

It's senior year, for pete's sake. I'm done with things like that.

…Hopefully.

"Uhhh…"

At the sound of that, I flinched, completely unwilling to turn my head towards the source of that voice. I scrunched my face and closed my eyes out of desperation. " _Connie, please tell me you didn't_."

"I didn't!" Connie held his hands up. "I just told the people in our group! You know — Sasha, Bert, Reiner, Christa, Ymir…"

And I choked at this point. If not Connie, then I wouldn't be surprised if Ymir was the one blabbed it out instead. It's not that she has no reserves for secrets only between friends, but she just doesn't take any notice of her surroundings, if there are people around, or how loud she is if she talks about something.

"I guess if it's just them…"

"I swear, Marco! No one else knows. Not even the teachers!"

I sighed. There's no use in crying over spilt milk at this point. As it is, I already got a ton of curious glances from people for being in detention in the first place.

"Last question then? Why was I sent to detention if I didn't do anything wrong?"

"From what Armin tells me, it's just a compensation thing." Eren explained. "I mean, accident or not, you still punched Jean. And I guess they're trying to show that they're not going to put any favoritism out there by not giving you detention."

At least I finally knew why I was in here, right?

"Jean's in here too, so it's like fifty-fifty."

That's right. Now, that I've got the whole story, I feel like I can face Jean better now and rightfully owe him that apology. I mean, I do have to remind myself that Jean wasn't like Sasha and that time was different than this time.

I avoided Sasha like the plague because I felt so incredibly guilty and bad about what I've done. And it's not like I didn't feel about what I did to Jean, but that time with Sasha was the first time I did anything like that. I felt like I was backed up against the wall with the lights all on me like it was the end of the world. I was scared and I didn't want to face the consequences of my actions and the person I harmed.

Sasha was adamant, though. She knew that I was avoiding her and stopped me before I made it continue off to two months.

Jean wasn't like her. Jean's not going to run after me and forgive me just as easily Sasha had done. Not everyone in the world is the same and I shouldn't always expect it to be like that.

Jean was different.

I wasn't going to be afraid like I was towards Sasha.

"I'm going to apologize to him." I announced, firm and strong.

"To Jean?" Eren raised an eyebrow.

"That's right." I nodded, determination swelling within me instead of those feelings of guilt.

"Alright, well, whatever happens, we're backing you up all the way, Marco!" Connie said, pumping his fist into the air. "We're here for you, man! Just lead the way and—"

"—I have a pizza delivery for…a Marco Bodt?"

At the entrance to the back of the school, a pizza delivery man announced and stood with a box of pizza in one arm, its aroma wafting through the air and making more than a few students salivate hungrily. A few seconds of silence passed, and almost instantly, nearly everyone's head turned to look at me, including Shadis.

As Shadis' eyes narrowed dangerously at me, I heard a barely audible 'Crap!' from Connie beside me. Much to my luck, I knew what he meant too.

" _Connie_!" I looked at the responsible male, hissing slightly and trying to resist face-palming myself.

"I'm sorry, Marco! I forgot about the pizza!" He whispered back before clasping his hands together and bowing his head to me. "I'm really,  _really_  sorry, man, but I can't get into any more trouble than I already am! One more detention and my parents are gonna kill me! Help me out." He pleaded.

"Pizza for Marco Bodt?" The delivery man repeated, awkwardly shuffling from foot to the other at how tense the atmosphere was and I really couldn't blame him.

Although I tried not to, my gaze swept around the lot. Just as I expected, everyone's attention was on me and it was pretty obvious as to what ran through everyone's thoughts — that, I, Marco Bodt, an honor student, bought pizza.

— _during detention_.

And I can tell that everyone thought I had the guts to do it during Shadis' watch too.

"Is there a Marco Bodt here?" The man turned towards Shadis and that was really the last thing I wanted to happen.

Just before Shadis got a chance to answer, I awkwardly stood up, raising my hand slightly, and answering, "I'm Marco Bodt…" Shadis was staring at me, students were staring at me, and Jean was staring at me. He looked at me as if I was stupid, and I'll be honest — it's not like he was wrong anyways because I felt plenty stupid right now.

"How much is the pizza?"

"It's a large, so that'll be thirteen dollars and ninety-nine cents."

"Hey, that's not right!" Connie argued out loud. "It's supposed to be a medium, and it's already been more than thirty minutes, so technically it's  _free_ , and—"

"Connie!" Eren and I both said in unison, simultaneously slapping a hand over Connie's mouth one over the other.

At this point, it's useless to lie

I'm more than just a little embarrassed. I don't know what to describe it as, but all I can say is that it didn't feel too good walking over to the pizza delivery man, holding that pizza box in my arms, and paying a twenty dollar bill — extra, only because even that guy didn't deserve to witness a scene so awkward and tense.

As soon as the delivery guy left, it wasn't the end of it.

Shadis stopped me before I could even reach halfway, indicating to the pizza and pointing at the trash bin in the corner. All I could see as I headed to the trash was Connie's look of devastation as he followed the pizza being shoved into the trash and Jean's expression towards me as he dabbed a wet paper towel against his eye.

I had no idea what it was, but it didn't look like he was impressed.

Afterwards, I prepared for the worst.

"This may be your first time in detention, Bodt," Shadis started, looking at me with so much disdain and despise. His eyes narrowed down at me as he hissed. "But where do you get the idea that you have more privilege than anyone in here?"

I never even thought that once.

"It just goes to show that even students like you are no different than any other troublemaker,  _honor student_."

Normally, that's a title that's something to be proud of, but as soon as it slipped out of Shadis' mouth, I didn't like the sound of it one bit.

"That'll be another day of detention, honor student,  _with me_. Tomorrow, after school. Don't be late." He continued. "Detention starts at 3:45, Bodt. I hope you can be the model student that you are and show up on time."

 _Ouch_.

I couldn't believe everything that just happened.

Not only did I just get blacklisted in Shadis' list, but I bought a pizza and didn't get to eat it.

Oh, right.

In the end, I just earned myself another detention.

* * *

 

It was already almost half past six o'clock by the time I got home, pushing through the door and dragging my backpack just a little in mid-air. My parents had finished dinner already and had remained in the living room, immediately looking at me as I came in. The look on their faces when my mother wondered why I came home a little later than I was supposed simply phased past me. I was in no mood to figure out any reasonable excuse for it so I just blurted something about a teacher holding me back for a conversation.

And I definitely had no intention of telling them that I just got issued another detention the next day all because I had to pay for a pizza that I didn't order and get to eat.

My stomach wasn't aching for anything to eat, though; I think everything that had happened so far in detention pretty much died down my appetite. I just told my parents that I'd eat later, heading upwards on the staircase to my room and continuing to drag my bag.

This was horrible — or maybe not? Was it odd? Different? Humiliating?

Maybe, that was it — or not. I can't figure out.

All I know was that Shadis' look and judgment of me, everyone's look of bewilderment and scandal towards me, all of it just continued to remain fresh in my head. It's like I didn't care about any of it, but I did care. I did — even if it was just a little.

I threw my car keys onto my desk and landed on my bed beside it, cupping my hands over my face as I remained still and letting the embarrassment of today flash through my mind. Alright, I get it. Things like this happen sometimes and everyone experiences some sort of embarrassment every once in a while. But seriously, I was humiliated. What were people going to think of me now?

A ring on my bed grabbed my attention and when I looked into it, I found that I'd received a text from Armin asking about me and how detention went. I really didn't want to, but I thought maybe since it was Armin, things would clear up even more; at least, a whole lot better than it did in detention.

" _Hello_?"

"Armin." My voice sounded disgruntled, and it seemed that was I needed for Armin to get the point.

"Marco," Armin breathed guiltily from the other side. I heard a clear gulp from him before he continued. "You know how you get…"

"I got that, but," And I placed a hand against the temple of my head, rubbing slightly. "I  _fuckin_ ' knocked out Jean Kirschstein." I had to lean upwards a bit just to make sure my parents had walked past by at that moment. As soon as I was sure it was clear, I returned back to my phone. "At least drop some hints the next time I unknowingly nailed someone in the face." I groaned in embarrassment. "And it had to be Jean of all people too…"

Alright, I'm going to have to admit it. Jean scared me a bit. I mean, Eren, Sasha, and Connie disobeyed the rules and caused trouble, but Jean obviously flicked the finger when it came to the admin and the school's rules. He stopped caring the day in our sophomore year when he came in with Connie sporting a hairstyle that clearly said "fuck you." Connie had to chop his off, but I think Jean continued to go with it, leading it up to the undercut that he has to this day.

I sighed. "I thought that I grew out of this stupid habit."

"Old habits die hard?" Armin laughed from the other side. "It's going to stick with you just like the freckles all around you."

"Right." I grinned, until for the second time that night, it clicked to me. ""I gave Jean a black eye." I repeated. "How was this not a thing around the school and how come I never heard anything?

"No one wants to make you sad, Marco. We've all got a soft spot for you."

"Eren said that too."

Armin chuckled softly. "Don't be stressed out about it. The nurse said it'd be bad for your health so try not thinking too much about it." He said. "Is there anything else that you need?"

"Yeah, one." I admitted. "Could you help me apologize to Jean?"

"Of course!" Armin agreed, sounding incredibly delighted. "He's in my book club."

"Jean's in book club."

"Well, inactive member, really. I kinda roped him into joining since Freshmen year and sometimes we hang out."

"I didn't know you and Jean knew each other."

It's almost like I could see Armin shrug. "Eren introduced." He explained. "When do you plan do see Jean?"

Ah, and here it goes.

"Oh, you know," I shrugged. "In detention again tomorrow. Maybe. Just the usual place."

Although I said that, I really hope not.

I can't risk getting into detention anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HONESTY HOUR!: This chapter was supposed to go out four days ago, but...
> 
> Also, I didn't have the idea of making Marco react so badly to surprises, but it's funny. Just imagine it. Seriously. Imagine Marco reacting so bad to being surprised.
> 
> And thanks for reading! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Honesty Hour! - I've never had detention before in my entire life either. Not even once. But Marco's definitely not alone!
> 
> Also, there's actually a Mexican Fast-Food Place and a Winchell's near my school within walking distance. Sometimes, students work part-time there too. :)
> 
> And note: this chapter was UNBETA'd.


End file.
